


Mad About Morgana

by Gilli_ann



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Admiration, Alternate Universe - Canon, BAMF Morgana (Merlin), Crack Treated Seriously, Episode: s03e11 The Sorcerer's Shadow, Fashion & Couture, Gen, Jewelry, News Media, POV Outsider, Tournaments, Unreliable Narrator, self-promotion
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-01
Updated: 2019-10-01
Packaged: 2020-05-30 18:28:30
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,144
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19408909
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Gilli_ann/pseuds/Gilli_ann
Summary: Wanting to boost her public image shortly before she seized power as queen regnant, Morgana gave a wide-ranging interview during Camelot's Open Tournament. She did however withhold crucial aspects of her true motivation and plans from the star-struck reporters.Here is the Albion Faire magazine's cover story, 'Mad About Morgana'.





	Mad About Morgana

**Author's Note:**

> This is a Merlin Canon Fest entry for 'the Sorcerer's Shadow'. Morgana looks beautiful and radiant during this whole episode. And even where the plot has her manipulating Uther and scheming, she seems more like her Season 1 self than she ever was to appear again on the show. This fic is mainly a love letter to that Morgana, her deceptions and all.
> 
> Thank you to my ever efficient beta, Gwyllion.
> 
> I've found inspiration in the content of Vanity Fair's pre-engagement interview with Meghan Markle, but I haven't in any way copied it. Their September 2017 story ('Meghan Markle, wild about Harry!') is still available online.
> 
> Disclaimer: The characters of the BBC's Merlin are the property of the BBC and Shine TV. The 'Nobody's Wife' lyrics belong to Anouk/Dino Music BMG. I intend no copyright infringement and make no profit.

  


You could easily be forgiven for thinking that the Lady Morgana is a fairy-tale princess come to life. 

When she greets us in Camelot Castle's reception hall, it's difficult not to be as stunned by her appearance as by the opulent surroundings. Morgana's dark hair falls in glossy waves. The elaborate dress in shimmering white silk, adorned with exquisite embroideries and lace, hugs every gorgeous part of her to perfection. A heavy golden necklace and other jewelry complete the royal look. But most of all, it's her ravishing face, her warm smile and lively eyes that catch our attention.

Morgana is not merely beautiful, but charming, witty, and intelligent.

She accepts every compliment gracefully, but laughs at the fairy-tale comparison. "I'm no princess, merely a duchess," she says modestly. Her father, as our readers will likely know, was Duke Gorlois of Cornwall. Morgana has been King Uther's ward since the tragic death of her father in battle. She was ten years old at the time.

"Losing him changed me profoundly. I lost my footing. But during the years since then, I have grown strong. I've discovered the true me, and I feel confident in who I am now."

There is an unusual air of suspense and excitement in Camelot this day. It's the eve before the city's major and unique free-for-all tournament, which is only arranged once every decade. Fighters have flocked to Camelot from near and far. The streets and fields are crowded, and the inns practically bursting at the seams. Wherever you look, combatants are practicing their skills, honing their weapons, or fortifying their courage with strong drink. 

The all-round belligerent, noisy mayhem stands in stark contrast to Morgana's pale serenity.

"Male bluster," she shrugs. "Competitiveness. So many angry men who want to prove themselves king of the hill. This is what I grew up with. I'm not afraid of any such man."

She's not perturbed by the violence and testosterone displays. "Tournaments are thrilling. They funnel aggression in manageable ways. I enjoy the participants' skills, and the sheer lack of predictability. And I can let you in on a secret right now— not only Prince Arthur, but King Uther himself will step into the ring tomorrow!"

This is a surprise. The king is the reigning champion, but he is getting on in years, and has not participated in tournaments recently. 

"It's not completely unexpected," Morgana insists. "King Uther is a proud man, and he's still strong. Don't underestimate him as a fighter and strategist."

But what will happen if he ends up facing his own son in the arena?

"We'll have to wait and see," Morgana says, noncommittally. "What will be, will be."

Royal watchers have long speculated that Morgana will continue her current tenure as Camelot's de facto leading lady when Prince Arthur takes the throne, and that the two will marry. They would make for a strikingly handsome royal couple, - a sun god wed to a moon gooddess, so the saying goes.

"Oh, not that old gossip again," she groans, exasperated. Turning serious, she explains; "Yes, I would gladly be queen. Which capable woman wouldn't? But Arthur and I - we grew up together. It would be like marrying my brother. It's not happening. Besides," - her voice drops to a low conspiratorial hum, - "Arthur already has _two_ special someones in his life. There's no place for me."

She grins at our raised eyebrows at this amazing and interesting tidbit, but she deflects our follow-up questions and refuses to elaborate. Nor does she want to discuss matters of her own heart.

"All in due course," is all she will say. "Tomorrow, I will preside over the tournament. Fate may have a more important role in store for me soon." 

We are left wondering whether this might possibly mean that a royal betrothal is about to be announced. Several of Camelot's neighbouring kingdoms are ruled by unmarried men or widowers. Any one of them surely would be a fitting consort for Morgana. King Cenred of Essetir seems the most obvious candidate, and a wedding might bring peace after the recent war and invasion. It would formalize an advantageous alliance between their two countries.

Whether or not Morgana is just being coy about there currently being no Prince Charming in her life, there also seems to be an obvious dearth of noble women with whom she entertains a close friendship.

Her years growing up in Camelot have been spent in an entirely masculine and fully-armed environment, with knights and soldiers everywhere.

"I don't feel lonely," she insists. "For one thing, I take my duties as chatelaine of Camelot Castle seriously. Keeping the castle running requires my constant attention. And I do have one woman as close to me as any sister. I can talk to her about every aspect of my life."

The stories have it that Morgana used to be a tomboy. Seeing her now, every inch the royal lady in her elegant, feminine gowns, it is hard to believe that she fought with a sword. Nevertheless, she confirms it. "There was a time when I wanted to be a knight above all else, in order to honour Gorlois' memory. I learned the sword in secret. I even beat Prince Arthur, once. But propriety and duties eventually caught up with me. I suppose I shall have to be content with ordering others into battle now, should that necessity present itself in future."

Her one-time fighting prowess and resilience have stood her in good stead. As King Uther's beloved and beautiful ward, she has been targeted by villains and scoundrels in the past. Both ransom-seekers and magical enemies of the king have succeeded in abducting her. Every time she managed to best the bandits and escape by herself. 

"Yes, I am resourceful, and I never give up. I am a survivor. During my last captivity I learned patience above all else, and to bide my time for the right moment. When it came, I was ready."

We do not want to end our first day in Camelot on such a sombre note, and therefore hastily turn the conversation to topics of lifestyle and fashion, which will obviously interest our readers.

"Fruit. Lots of fruit," Morgana says about her diet. "The kitchens here at Camelot Castle otherwise provide solid, simple and nourishing food, a bit too rich in carbs and fat. The trick is to eat sparingly. The local bread and cheeses are delicious, but will easily pad your hips." 

She laughs, lowering her voice mischievously. "The royal dinner table usually sports pork in some form. Whole roast piglet is King Uther's personal favourite. There's also frequently a large ham or a fried pig's head involved. I tend to— shall we say, —observe, rather than partake?"

Morgana also makes sure to keep well hydrated, and always drinks fresh water with the meals. But she does enjoy a good red wine, in particular the blood-red and fragrant Chateau de Medhir.

She wears discreet makeup. Her pale, perfect complexion leaves us in no doubt that she is careful about staying out of the sun, although she is an excellent horsewoman. She's regularly seen in the woods near Camelot, racing along on her beautiful white mare, Secret. 

"Fresh air, freedom, excitement," she explains, her eyes shining. "I do enjoy horseback riding immensely and couldn't live without it. But I take care to wear light cloaks and to keep my hood up."

She goes on to emphasise how getting enough sleep each night is a necessity in any woman's beauty regime. "I used to suffer from insomnia," she says, twisting the large bracelet on her wrist as she reminisces, her expression pained. "I went about like a ghoul, dark smudges under my eyes, so tired I could hardly manage to put one foot in front of the other. Luckily, those days are past, and I get eight hours' sleep every night. It works wonders! Sleep sharpens the mind, clears your skin, and brightens your eyes. And it doesn't cost a penny."

Morgana's long, dark, and gleaming hair is practically an artwork unto itself, always styled at the height of fashion. The lady is a true icon. It's no wonder that the Hairdressers' Guild of Camelot enjoys her personal patronage. During the interview, she wears her hair down in waves flowing over one shoulder. It's an enchanting and slightly intimate look. "It'll be tamed into a proper updo tomorrow," she assures us. "Formal duties call for formal looks."

The silk dress she's donned for the interview is custom Viviane Avalon. She gives it an additional lace-rich twirl for our benefit. (Editor's note: Annotated and detailed illustrations of both gowns discussed in this cover story are provided in a separate section of the magazine. Enjoy!)

"As for the jewelry," Morgana adds, "we have excellent and creative gold- and silversmiths here in Camelot. I would particularly ask your magazine's readers to consider the Phoenix brand. A woman feels positively magical, wearing their statement gems!"

Clearly, there is a hint of the risqué in this endorsement, since all forms of magic are banned in Camelot on the pain of death. Noticing our surprise, Morgana laughs. "It is no secret that I deem aspects of Camelot politics overly conservative. Change will come in due course. Meanwhile, it is tempting to flirt a little with my rebellious side, as I do."

Who can blame her, when her wilder side is this charming and gorgeous? Certainly not King Uther— it is obvious that he is and remains deeply attached to his ward.

We now know that tomorrow, Morgana will rule the Tournament. We're already convinced that she'll look every inch a queen, but as a parting treat for the evening, Morgana generously allows the capable and discreet Gwen, her personal maid through many years, to show us tomorrow's gown. The garment is a wonder of shimmering white silk, shot through with rich and delicate geometric patterns of silver thread. The low-cut snug bodice, the flowing transluscent sleeves, the slim silhouette and a train like frothing sea foam, all join together into one regal whole. It's royal couture at its finest. 

We take our leave for the evening, properly awed, and all the more eager for the big tournament to get under way.

* * * * *

The first day of the tournament dawns bright and fair, but Morgana easily outshines it. As she takes her place on the throne in the middle of the royal dais, every eye is upon her. She looks radiant and joyful. The glorious gown reflects the sunlight, in competition with her diamond-set white gold jewelry. Her eyes sparkle. The golden coins in the open prize chest next to her seem dull in comparison.

Ruling the day, commanding the crowd's rapt attention, Morgana is in her proper element. Her voice is proud but pleasant as she opens the tournament; "It is my pleasure to welcome you all to Camelot. This is a contest like no other. It is open to all comers. Including our reigning champion, the King! There are no rules, no weapons are banned. The last man standing takes the prize."

She indicates the chest filled with enticing golden coins, smiles and declares: "Let the tournament begin!"

Sitting back on the throne, Morgana surveys the field of contenders with interest, and so do we. 

It's a motley group. Both King Uther and Prince Arthur are there, as expected, in the midst of warriors from many realms. The men sport a variety of menacing weaponry, and most are big, battle-scarred, well-muscled and armoured. We glimpse a young and plain man among them, however, and our heart cannot help but go out to him. He's dressed in simple peasant's clothes, does not look strong, and wears no armour. The big sword he carries likely is some sort of family heirloom. It's understandable that country folk may consider this tournament an opportunity to gain fame and wealth, but he clearly has no chance. We dearly hope he escapes with life and limbs intact.

The tournament battles are brutal, vicious, and generally short. Contenders are knocked unconscious. Blood spurts from gaping wounds. There are deaths. The spectators roar their approval, or sigh collectively when a favourite is beaten into the dust.

Morgana presides over the games looking like a true goddess of victory. She is engaged throughout, and cheers the winners happily while showing no obvious distaste for the gore and violence. 

There is noise, colour, movement, and high emotions everywhere. In the middle of the mayhem, Morgana shines like the brightest gem. 

The king and the prince both win their opening battles, and so, surprisingly, does the young peasant, although he is wounded in the fight, and faces an even steeper uphill battle in the coming rounds.

In this manner the first day passes, bathed in the brightness of silver and gold, and with a constant spatter of crimson.

The tournament's second day sees a battle that the crowds have been hoping for and betting on, but which Morgana surely must have dreaded. King Uther fights his son and heir, Prince Arthur. It is strange that the king will let this happen. He has previously gone to great lengths to protect his son's life, but in this fight one or both risk being wounded, or even killed. If worse comes to worst, the victor will have his closest relative's death on his conscience. If the prince were to fall, King Uther would have no obvious heir. The stakes are incredibly high. 

Morgana leans forward, following the fight with a nervous intensity that we have not previously seen her display. She obviously fears the outcome of the fight, and is deeply invested in every move, every sword-strike, every dodge, feint, and blocking motion. 

The clashes of sword meeting sword, or sword hitting shield, ring loudly in the silence. All the spectators hold their breaths as the royal battle, much like a dance, moves back and forth across the newly-sanded arena. 

For a while it is clear that the prince has the advantage, and the king seems entirely on his back foot, mainly defending himself, and unable to attack. He appears weary and out of breath. Prince Arthur, however, seems reluctant to immediately press forward, and this eventually gives the king the respite he needs to gather his strength, find his balance, and attack. 

All of a sudden, the battle turns. Arthur's sword flies from his hand, he takes a fall and is on his back, breathless, beaten. He yields, and King Uther once more emerges the victor in a decisive fight.

We notice Morgana sitting back on the throne, the tension draining out of her even as she keeps her expression deliberately neutral. While the crowd goes wild, cheering and stomping, it takes Morgana a moment to join in the celebration of the king's victory. It clearly put a considerable strain on her to have to watch the two men closest to her in a fight to the death.

Prince Arthur leaves the arena, his shoulders slumping and his head down. As always, the prince is followed by his seemingly ever-present and extremely loyal manservant, who undoubtedly will offer him the appropriate words of comfort. We feel certain that Morgana will do the same as soon as her formal duties have been finished for the day. She did after all assure us that Arthur is like her brother. We can only hope that she will be able to lighten the prince's mood. His time will surely come.

And so, the king advances to the finale. To our considerable surprise, his opponent in the fight for the championship will be the young plainly-dressed peasant. He must possess incredible weapon-skills to have fought his way this far despite his lack of armour and his unassuming looks. Or perhaps the ring he wears on his hand is an actually effective good-luck charm?

Anything can still happen, and Morgana acknowledges as much when she gracefully closes the games for the day and leaves the stands. 

We would obviously have wanted to discuss her reactions after the day's dramatic developments, but unfortunately she sends word that other obligations makes this impossible.

On the tournament's final day, Prince Arthur takes over as tournament ruler. He outranks Morgana, true, and he looks as handsome as ever in his crimson cloak, but he seems surly after losing yesterday's fight. We may be biased, but we admit to feeling sad to see Morgana relegated to the lesser seat next to the prince. She was the perfect Tournament Queen— we would have enjoyed seeing her on the throne all the way to the end.

When push comes to shove, King Uther's experience and stamina win the day, and he bests the upstart young fighter, whose name is Gilli. It's a hell of a fight, though, and the crowds approve of the king's magnanimity in letting his opponent live. 

The tournament is over. It's been an entertaining, emotional and amazing demonstration of battle skills and winner instincts. Three days of pure drama have come to an end, and Camelot will return to its normal self. Calmer times await.

* * * * *

The Lady Morgana takes time to greet us once more in the afternoon, albeit briefly.

"Have you enjoyed yourselves? I most certainly have," she smiles. "King Uther was once more victorious, it's impressive. But this will be the last time he wins a fight."

Noticing our surprised looks, she hastily adds; "It is ten years to the next such Tournament, after all."

She is about to join the royals for a post-tournament feast. Won't that be more than a little awkward, seeing that the king beat the prince, who otherwise is known as Camelot's champion fighter? 

"I'll make sure that everyone behaves, and that we keep the conversation civil. Although I may not be able to stop myself from taking Arthur down a peg or two," she smirks, her eyes glinting. "We're used to teasing each other mercilessly." 

In Albion Faire we do always like to end our interviews on a personal note, and therefore we ask the lady about her most beloved song. Perhaps unexpectedly, and perhaps not, she immediately declares her favourite to be the minstrel Anouk's revolutionary 'Nobody's Wife'. 

"It speaks to me," Morgana says. "It definitely speaks about my future."

The lyrics may well surprise our readers:

_"I'm sorry for the times that I made you scream_  
_For the times that I killed your dreams_  
_For the times that I made your whole world rumble_  
_For the times that I made you cry_  
_For the times that I told you lies_  
_For the times that I watched and let you stumble_  
_It's too bad, but that's me_  
_What goes around comes around, you'll see...."_

With Morgana's enigmatic parting statement in mind, and while the intense song lyrics still resonate, we say our final goodbyes.  


**THE END**


End file.
